


Que Será Será

by reversetheuniverse



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: F/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-04 12:05:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15840957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reversetheuniverse/pseuds/reversetheuniverse
Summary: They're forces of nature—she's push, he's pull; they're drawn together like magnets. And in a world where soulmates exist, that might just mean something.





	1. PART ONE

**Author's Note:**

> Ya can't get rid of me that easily!!!
> 
> After taking a much needed break, I'm trying to get back into writing more for the fics I have sitting in my documents on my desktop. I like to work on a lot that, unless I finish them completely or know that I'm going to finish them completely, won't get posted. But this is something that I plan on finishing since the length of the fic is not that long at all. I've got part two in the works, I just felt like I wanted to get the first part posted since I realized it would read better if split into two (the second part, the format is just slightly different). 
> 
> Also, you're getting a soulmate fic out of me!! For some reason, unless they're made in a very specific way, soulmate fics have never really been my fave, but I got a request to do one a while back, and I wanted to try to tackle this specific au since it wasn't one I've ever done. This will probably be my only soulmate fic (probably, definitely, to-may-to, to-mah-to), but I really like the direction I've taken this one in, so I hope you guys will, too.
> 
> For me, Riarkle will never die!!! These two are too sweet and definitely needed to end up together, so if I can make that happen in my fics, I CERTAINLY WILL!!!!!!
> 
> Anyway, happy reading! Thanks :)

Riley Matthews is five years-old when she first hears about soulmates.

They’re the magic that binds the world, that makes living _worth_ it, and she has living proof of it existing—her parents have each other’s names printed clearly across their respective wrists.

The way her father explains it is with a stern look and, “Something that happens when you’re much, _much_ older.”

The way her mother explains it to her is not as dismissive. In fact, the way she tells her how it works makes her want to dwell on it in her dreams, because it feels like a fairytale.

_“Two souls are destined to meet, somewhere in the world, somehow. Like magnets they come together, and then their universes collide like it did at the very beginning. Everyone has this kindred soul that is theirs, and when they find it, they can exist in pure bliss, two halves together as a whole once again.”_

From that day on, she dreams of who might be her bonded soul, the person she’s supposed to meet in the future that she can trust to be hers for the rest of her life. She pictures a night in shining armor riding in on a white horse, ready to sweep her away just like in the books her mother reads to her at night.

She trusts she’ll find it. After all, her mother told her she would, and although she has many years until it happens, she can wait for that special someone.

 

* * *

 

Farkle Minkus is seven years-old when he meets Riley Matthews, and he doesn’t know what to think of her.

She seems to accept him for who he is, doesn’t think that his quirks are weird and off-putting. He admires that greatly, and despite the fact that Riley is quite the unique individual herself, he’d rather remain alongside her than spend his recesses reading science books under a tree like he has since he started school.

She smiles at him and it’s warm like the sun, pure and unadulterated happiness. She dances circles around him, makes pinky promises that only exist between the two of them and has him watch clouds with her when they’re particularly fluffy out. And then she tells him of her story she’s made up for the day of how she’s going to meet her soulmate, and Farkle listens attentively but only holds the idea with a grain of salt.

He thinks the whole “soulmate” thing isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.

Of course, he is only seven, so his knowledge is only limited to seven trivial years of personal experience plus the books his dad offers him each day, the ones filled with science and math that absolutely _fascinate_ him.

Farkle knows science, and science can’t account for soulmates. Riley says it’s magic, but Farkle highly doubts that. Science doesn’t account for magic, either, but then he remembers that he knows Riley, and that’s enough proof for him.

For now.

 

* * *

 

 

Riley is thirteen years old when she meets Lucas, and he becomes her _everything_.

When she pictured her soulmate when she was younger, he’s exactly what she imagined—a daring, brave young man with blue eyes that could pierce a hole into her heart with just one look. She falls on his lap on the subway by ‘accident’ (read: Maya), but when she extends her hand out to introduce herself and he shakes it, she feels as if the cosmos fated them to meet, and her skin sparks with an electricity unlike any other.

_This is it,_ she tells herself. _This is him._

Riley can’t explain how she knows; she just _knows_. When she tells Maya this, Maya glances at her, amused, but she doesn’t tell her that she’s wrong. Maya doesn’t trust the system but she trusts Riley, and that’s all that matters. They’re thunder and lightning and they’re always on the same side, no matter what.

Farkle, however, is a little harder to convince.

When he’s not busy spouting science facts, he’s showering her and Maya with affection, but really it’s the only way he knows how to interact with them now. They’re growing up; Riley gets it. He’s always been a little shy, a little unknowing of the world he’s been placed in.

But Riley tells him Lucas is the one, and he laughs.

She’s mad at first. Righteously infuriated, because he’s supposed to be her best friend!

They’ve always clashed when it comes to beliefs, though, and after a few days of radio silence between them, Farkle apologizes, but Riley does, too. She’s known him for what feels like forever, and he’s never been one to change his own beliefs just because of his emotional connection to somebody; he knows what he believes and he sticks to his principles firmly, and Riley can’t fault him for that. That’s an aspect of himself that he’s never hidden, and she wouldn’t want him to.

In fact, she praises him for his ability to stay true to himself.

But he supports her and Lucas, and that’s all she really cares about. Not what he thinks of soulmates, not what he believes, but his unfailing, unwavering loyalty to her no matter what.

That’s all that really matters.

 

* * *

 

Farkle is fourteen when he starts dating Isadora Smackle. He doesn’t quite understand feelings but he knows that when he looks at her goofy face, his heart soars in a way that he’s never experienced before—but he’s willing to test this experiment out and see where it goes.

Isadora is just like him—she doesn’t buy into the whole ‘soulmate’ thing like most people do. She believes in numbers and science, and that those are the guiding forces of their universe. When she says that, Farkle thinks that, if he were ever to be certain about emotions and how they work, then he’d want to marry her on the spot.

Isadora lights him aflame. There’s this thing in his chest that he feels every single time he looks at her, and words seem to fail him each time he casts his eyes upon her deep, earthy brown irises that seem to hold the answers to the universe in them. He’s never been one to speak in metaphor, but it’s lighting, being with her.

He runs his relationship like an experiment; there’s theory behind everything he does. He knows she doesn’t much appreciate physical affection, so he always asks for permission before he takes the next step in his research. He’ll notice her fingers twitch at her side sometimes, and he creates a hypothesis—what if he took her hand in his? That would certainly stop the twitching.

So he does. He confirms his hypothesis. Isadora is warm, and that confirms another hypothesis of his.

It comforts him that a relationship is also a science because he can deal with science. He couldn’t handle it if he believed that soulmates worked; the probability of Isadora being his would, firstly, be very . . . low. There’s approximately seven billion people in the world. The chance of her being his is a discomforting figure, and he doesn’t believe in it anyway.

There’s a solace in science, so he lets it rule his feelings, and it works out well for him.

That, he can believe in.

 

* * *

 

Riley is eighteen years old when she graduates high school.

It’s almost unbelievable, how quickly it all passed her by. It was like her childhood has been the blink of an eye, the ripping of a band-aid. It happens so fast you can’t even process it, you don’t even have the chance to experience any emotions about it until after.

She’s learned a lot during her four years of high school. She and Lucas broke up halfway into Sophomore year, and that was the biggest hurdle Riley had to overcome. She spent _so long_ hoping that he was her forever person, that someone meant to belong to her and only her, but the more she thought about it, the less it made sense to her.

Riley found herself not feeling that electricity, the spark having long since fizzled out of existence. It no longer felt like they were fated to be, and allure faded and gave way to reality. She pushed it away for so long, wanted so badly for the truth she had conjured up herself to not be a lie. But her and Lucas weren’t compatible in the way they were when they were thirteen; that was the unwanted yet undeniable infallibility.

The breakup was messy, but long-needed. They remained friends, but her heart would still ache for him sometimes when she’d catch him in a certain light, remembering what it once felt like to have him feel like he was hers forever.

Maya was there for her, though, still is. She made sure to be there in whatever capacity Riley needed, and Riley couldn’t believe she had been so blessed. Even Farkle stuck through it with her, despite their small fallout after his and Smackle’s breakup, and they became closer than ever.

She’s just as blessed to have him, too.

Age had changed him; she still misses his quirky mannerisms and vivid turtlenecks. But this Farkle, her Farkle now, is the version she prefers. She’d prefer him in any which way he presented himself, because he’s him. He’s her Farkle; always will be.

He knows what she needs without her expressing it, and every time she looks at him, her heart would thrum in a manner corresponding only to the sight of Farkle, her dearest friend. Farkle’s always a phone call or a text away, ready to swing through the window of her room and be there in any way she needs him to. He somehow always knows when she’s not herself, even if she doesn’t notice it herself right away.

And that’s why he appears at her side on the balcony at their graduation party, a flute of sparkling white grape juice in hand and a quirk of the mouth present at the sight of her.

“Hiding out?”

A smile rises to her face as she recognizes him, bubbly excitement welling in the pit of her stomach, along with another bit of _something_ , a something she can’t quite comprehend, not yet.

“Thinking,” she answers him, patting the railing of the balcony, beckoning him over beside her. Farkle does so without hesitation, sighing when he’s in place.

“Yeah,” he nods, knowing fully what she means without her having to express it. “I’ve been doing that a lot lately, too.”

His fingers reach up to muss his hair about, and Riley almost reaches out to stop him because she’s been admiring the way it’s been gelled all day. She withdraws at the last second, curling her fingers back into her palm and resting the hand at her side.

“You ready?” he presses after a moment of silence from her. Riley shrugs.

“I’m not sure. I know what I want, don’t get me wrong, but something about it feels . . . _off_. Maybe it’s because you and Maya are going to completely separate colleges from me,” she adds at the last moment. Farkle raises a brow at her.

“You do know it’s a thirty-minute drive between our colleges?”

Riley wants to tell him that that’s not enough, that she needs him by her side every waking moment of every day. She wants to tell him that she needs him in such a way that it scares her to even consider it, in such a way that she’s tried so hard to push out of her realm of thinking. But she’s got all summer to enjoy being around him, and she knows better than to think that they’ll ever drift apart, because they won’t.

He’s her Farkle; she’s his Riley. That’s how they are, what they are to each other.

“We’ll make it work,” she agrees, tucking a lock of hair behind her own ear. “Because we’re Farkle and Riley. Nothing in the universe could stop us.”

“Not even if it tried,” he says, stealing a swig of the sparkling grape juice.

“It wouldn’t even _dare_ ,” Riley finishes, the words a truth escaping her lips, probably the most truthful thing she might ever say.

Because she would never let anything break them apart. He’s her rock, and nothing can shatter that. Not even time.

 


	2. PART TWO

Farkle is twenty-four, going on twenty-five, and his whole world, this existence he’s procured for himself, is getting ready to shatter.

He’s never been one to pace around his house anxiously, but he’s also never been waiting to turn twenty-five before, the seconds ticking away at the clock a reminder of something he’s never once had faith in.

That is, until now.

Even he can’t deny the fact that he wants so desperately to have letters appear on his skin at this point; he’s been fooling himself for years, trying so hard to dispute something that has a high probability of occurring. He’s seen numerous friends go through it that he can’t deny it any longer, which is why he’s wearing a hole into his tile kitchen floor, each minute passing by slower than the next.

Maya insisted she be there, but Farkle wouldn’t let her. This was going to be an experience he had to deal with by himself, to figure out how he felt about it. After all, his opinion on the matter had changed drastically within the course of a month, and he was _still_ dealing with the numerous possibilities that were running through his mind.

Millions of trillions of possibilities, each one a figure he could not even begin to understand, let alone imagine.

It’s probably Riley’s romantic tendencies that have rubbed off on him, he figures, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s waiting for something he never even once believed in.

Until now.

He’s not quite sure what changed his mind. Of course, seeing his friends have the writing appear on their wrists was a factor, but that alone wasn’t enough to change his mind.

Maybe it’s delusions of grandeur.

To think that he’s so important that his wrist warrants a soulmate mark, that he _deserves_ one in the first place, might just be borderline laughable. But he doesn’t ignore his heart’s desires, just this once, and waits for the night to pass and for the letters to appear.

His twelve-year-old self would be laughing at him right now for being so foolish; Farkle’s just glad he’s let himself be open to love. He appreciates not being jaded and cynical, not letting logic rule over _every_ part of him (just most of it).

Farkle is . . . _excited_. He’s genuinely excited to be a part of this sort of rite of passage, this sort of magic life holds that science can’t explain for, if his apprehensive shifting is any indicator. He stops for several seconds occasionally, just to adjust a picture frame on his wall or to drum his fingers on the kitchen table or the countertops to bide his time.

And then it happens—one minute before the day of his birthday, and the countdown in his head rattles his body, sends goosebumps tingling amongst his skin. Fifty seconds becomes forty, thirty, twenty, and then he’s down to the final ten seconds, and he counts the seconds in his head, practically holding his breath in.

_Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . seven . . . six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . ._

_One._

 

His phone vibrates immediately, both to relay his alarm for his annual birthday reminder, as well as mass texts filing in from his friends. Farkle places his phone down on the counter gently, wobbling as his breath catches, the anticipation building with every passing second after midnight. Then he lifts his wrist—the left, of course, always the left—and gingerly and carefully moves up his sleeve, the black lettering coming to view almost instantaneously.

And then he gasps, loudly and very audibly, covering his wrist back up immediately.

It wasn’t a stranger. It wasn’t an acquaintance he met once in passing, or a face that only manifested itself in his dreams when his brain was trying to make sense of the world around him during slumber. No.

 

It was _Riley Matthews._

 

* * *

 

**[Hartbreaker]**

 

**yoooooooooooooooooooo who yo soulmate be ya NERD**

**you can tell me i promise i won’t spill**

**probably**

**well maybe not**

**but you can still tell me**

**cause**

**I WANNA KNOWWWW**

**WILL YOU SHOW MEEEE**

**I WANNA KNOW ABOUT YOUR SOULMATE MARK, PLEASE**

**get it? phil collins!!!**

**. . .**

**???**

**u out there???**

-

 

**[Zayday]**

 

**k if u aren’t gonna tell maya then u gotta tell me**

**we cool**

**cooler than cool**

**ice cold**

**ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT**

**come ON you gotta appreciate that**

**okay, okay i get it i won’t ask**

**just text me if u alright?**

**i won’t do the annoying thing again i promise**

**. . .**

**ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT**

**maybe i lied a little about that**

**sorry man i am who i am**

**but seriously minkus**

**TEXT US**

**-**

**[Huckleberry Friar]**

**First of all**

**Is my name still Huckleberry Friar in your phone?**

**I feel like you should change that because Maya doesn’t need the satisfaction of everyone in our friend group having my name as that in their phone**

**Secondly**

**Are you okay?**

**I don’t care about the other thing**

**Just wanna make sure you’re doing fine**

**Come meet me for lunch if you want I’m going to that pizza parlor around the corner**

**We can just chill and catch up just lemme know**

**-**

**[Isadora Smackle]**

 

**I have heard that you are not answering phones.**

**Well, you answered Lucas, which is nice.**

**But I feel like you owe the rest of us the courtesy of answering our phones.**

**Also, we have a birthday party planned for you that I was not supposed to spill about, but I feel like you are obligated to come to that.**

**I am just informing you of this.**

**I will also drag you out by your ear if I have to.**

**That is all.**

**-**

**[Smiley Riley]**

 

**Hey, are you doing alright?**

**Is this a mid-midlife crisis?**

**Should I be running over to your apartment to check on you?**

**I just really worry about you, Farkle.**

**Okay, you definitely don’t have to answer our texts, but you definitely have to show up at my apartment tonight at eight.**

**FOR NO REASON AT ALL**

**JUST A COOL FRIEND HANG OUT NO SPECIAL OCCASION HERE**

**Dress up nice, though. I know you can do it, Minkus!**

**Also there might be a certain dessert involved?**

**Also also objects of particular interest to you that are uhhhh covered in pretty paper that will be relinquished unto you??**

**I’m really bad at this please just come to your party tonight I made a really cool cake (thanks Pinterest!!) and you’ve got lots of good presents and I feel like you need a hug.**

**See you tonight! ♥♥**

* * *

 

**[OPERATION: TOTALLY NOT FARKLE’S BDAY]**

**Riley: Okay no one talk about the YOU KNOW WHAT at the party**

**Riley: It’s officially off limits**

**_Maya set the nickname for Riley Matthews to Lame Nerd_ ** **.**

**Maya: Uh huh**

**Maya: Suuuuuuuuuure**

**Lame Nerd: Maya!!!!!**

**_Lame Nerd set the nickname for Maya Hart to Stupid Dummy_ ** **.**

****

**Stupid Dummy: Good comeback, Lame Nerd!**

**_Lucas set the nickname for Riley Matthews to Riley_ ** **.**

**_Lucas set the nickname for Maya Hart to Maya_ ** **.**

**Lucas: Come on, guys.**

**Lucas: I agree with Riley. Don’t talk about it. If he wants to tell us, he can, but don’t press him.**

**Lucas: It is his birthday, after all.**

**Smackle: I second that. I don’t want you two to ruin the party.**

**Maya: You two??**

**Smackle: You and Zay.**

**Zay: Awwwww how come I gotta be called out like this**

**Maya: It is what it is, Zay**

**Riley: Alright, you two are outvoted by Smackle and Lucas and I.**

**Riley: No talking about it!!!**

**Riley: Also, Zay**

**Zay: Yes?**

**Riley: Please wear something nice.**

**Riley: As in, NOT YOUR TUXEDO T-SHIRT**

**Riley: If you’d like, I’ll send you a list of APPROPRIATE wear**

**Zay: You’re no fun!!!!!**

**Riley: ISAIAH BABINEAUX**

**Riley: YOU WILL DO AS I SAY OR YOU WILL NOT BE ALLOWED TO THE PARTY**

**Zay: Fiiiiiiiiiiiiine MOM**

**Lucas: Don’t sass your mother**

**Maya: Yeah, ZAY. Don’t sass your mother!!!!**

**Riley: When did you all agree on me being your mom????**

**Smackle: A while back.**

**Smackle: Mom**

**Smackle:  :)**

**_Smackle set Riley Matthews nickname as Mom._ **

**Mom: I’LL ONLY ALLOW THIS FOR THIS GROUP**

**Smackle: Oh, Bubbles**

**Maya: Oh, Hon**

**Zay: Too late**

**Lucas: DEFINITELY too late**

**Mom: YOU GUYS ARE THE WORST**

**Mom: . . .**

**Mom: Please arrive at 7:30 for set up thank you**

**Mom: GOODBYE FOREVER**

**_Mom left the group._ **

****

**Maya: Awwww party pooper**

* * *

 

 Turning twenty-five is not all it’s cracked up to be.

 

As Farkle sips at his light beer, he watches his friends from beside Riley’s bookshelf as they argue about what to do next, and Farkle really loves them, he really does.

But he wants to leave.

He’s got this overwhelming suffocation in his chest, both from anxiety and proximity to Riley, who doesn’t know she’s supposed to be his soulmate. And by the time she does, it probably won’t even matter to her because she’ll be happy where she is, most likely married to her current boyfriend.

 

She likes Daniel, as she should—he’s a veterinarian, part-time afterschool tutor. He’s got a great dog that loves her unabashedly, and she fits right into his picturesque home like the last piece of a puzzle.

 

And that, _that_ is the reason why he doesn’t tell her. But what _does_ he say? He certainly can’t tell them that his best friend’s name is on his wrist; that’s a disaster waiting to happen. Farkle’s had enough rejection in his life time, and for Riley to find out they’re supposed to be together because some unknown force dictated it?

She wouldn’t care for it.

Yes, she _does_ care for him, he’s not unaware of that fact. But caring for someone and being _in love_ with someone are two different things, and Farkle knows for _certain_ that Riley is not in love with him. If she was, they’d be living together happily, and instead of his party being thrown at her house, it be _their_ house.

But there will never be _their_ house, it will always be his house and her house, and Farkle will remain infinitely in love with a girl who doesn’t feel the same way.

Honestly, this whole ordeal is just a punch to the gut, and Farkle would rather stick his head in the toilet for a full minute than admit what his wrist says, so he decides then and there what he’s going to do.

He’s going to pretend he doesn’t have a soulmate mark and live for an eternity with his wrist covered so that no one ever has to know.

 

It’s for the best, really.

 

“Okay, Farkle, it’s settled. You’re going to stop moping against this bookshelf and come join us for a fun dance party with no complaints. And you’re gonna dance with me first!” Riley appears at his side, tugging at his left arm. Farkle’s initial reaction is to pull away, but he doesn’t want to make her suspicious, so he complies and lets Riley tug him to the living room as Maya puts on her favorite playlist.

The music starts and immediately Riley starts jumping around, her periwinkle lace dress swishing around her as she beams brightly, her eyes pleading for him to join her. He sighs, setting down his beer so that he can comply, because when can he ever say no to her?

It’s _impossible_.

And as the room becomes drowned out by Maya’s music and the visage of Riley, Farkle wishes he could live in this moment forever—uncomplicated, undemanding, effortless.

 

If only.

 

If only, if only, _if only_.

 

* * *

 

Farkle, after turning twenty-five and getting the name of a person who will, despite the forces of the universe trying, never love him back, finds dating to be _extremely difficult._

And yeah, it sort of makes sense. People don’t flock to people with soulmate marks, and if they do, it’s because they’re looking for the match to _their_ soulmate mark.

So Farkle quickly learns to deal with the fact that he’s going to be alone forever; that’s just how it’s going to go.

But he tries anyway, because he’s a fucking idiot, that’s what. It never lasts, even the ones that promise him it will, and all of it can be explained by the other person soon finding their soulmate and ditching him. It drives him up the wall, but he gets it. He really does.

It doesn’t help that he knows he’s in love with Riley still, too. How can he not? If he had gotten her name tattooed on his wrist when he was younger, he would’ve fainted, maybe even died from shock. But now that he’s older and his love for her has become more solidified, more an actual part of him rather than just a fleeting feeling, he can’t deny the fact that he is hers forever, regardless of what capacity.

Not that he’d ever tell her what capacity he’d prefer it to be. Riley is his oldest and dearest friend next to Maya. Feelings complicate things and make them messy, and the last thing he wants to do is make things messy with the girl who makes his life better by just being in it.

_Ugh_ , he’s a fucking _sap_.

He’s also in love with his best friend, and for the first time in his life, Farkle Minkus has no idea what to do.


	3. PART THREE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhh, I couldn't help but post the last chapter as soon as I finished it!! I just loved writing this ;-;
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!! Thanks for reading :)

Riley is twenty-four, and to be frank, she isn’t sure how she really feels about getting ready to turn twenty-five.

She’s waited years—her whole _lifetime_ , even—for the one thing she’d romanticized in her head to finally happen. Now, she’s ambivalent on the matter.

Don’t get her wrong, she’s not jaded over it, she hasn’t become cynical or anything. She’s just not sure what to think of it. Farkle’s reaction to not having his own doesn’t make her life any simpler, either.

When he admitted that he’d waited for hours only for his wrist to remain blank, Riley felt her heart plummet. First and foremost, for her friend: Farkle deserved to have his wrist covered with a name, to have someone to call his own, to have someone be his home that he returned to every night, and yet the universe decided that wasn’t for him.

But then what if that happens to her? What if her wrist doesn’t change, just stays blank? Is she prepared to face that possibility, the all-too-real reality that could occur? She doesn’t think there’s anyone out there that’s been as infatuated with the idea of a soulmate as she has, and she isn’t prepared for the devastation of a lifetime.

Unfortunately (but also lucky) for her, she and Daniel broke up the month prior. He, of course, got his soulmate mark, and it wasn’t her. Which was fine, and they talked it over, and Riley understood why he would break up with her; she’d do it, too, if she were in his position. He believed that the soulmate mark held power, and he wanted to be able to find whoever it was that had been permanently etched into his skin. Riley decided that, when the time came, she would want that, too, so the breakup was sad, but amicable. She didn’t think she could be with someone who didn’t have her name on their wrist.

Now, though . . . she doesn’t know what to do. She feels utterly lost, and she’s questioning her prior beliefs she held regarding soulmates. What if she doesn’t have one? What if she does, and they’re already happily married?

For the first time in a really long time, Riley is lost and afraid, and she doesn’t know what to do. She wishes she had her friends to look up to, but the only one to be of soulmate age doesn’t have one at all. It’s like she’s travelling upstream without a paddle, and all control is absent.

Riley doesn’t get a chance to continue contemplating and stewing over the issue, though, because Maya forces her to go out and do things, and then informs her that they _will_ throw a party for her, and she will have all the fun in the world and not worry about soulmate marks. It’ll be an impossible feat, but Riley knows that she’s in good hands, and Maya will get her through this, regardless of the outcome. It gives her the needed push to keep going and be happy about her birthday again, and Riley’s glad to have the friends she does.

She still questions it, though, and the thought of the mark plagues her up until the day of her birthday.

 

* * *

 

Maya holds a party for Riley on the night before her birthday because she knows her best friend, knows how special Riley really wants this to be. Riley couldn’t be more thankful, and the whole thought of having a party before this big rite of passage occurs makes her excited about it again. Maya and Smackle make a promise to help her make a day of it—fancy brunch with mimosas and scones, shopping at all of her favorite stores (in which Maya “forces” Riley to let her buy her a dress), and then spending the rest of the night before the party getting glammed up.

They make a real day of it, and even Smackle has a good time despite brunch and shopping not being her particular cup of tea. Maya helps Riley pick out a dress that makes her look drop dead _gorgeous_ —it’s a cocktail dress with a crimson bodice (plunging neckline, sleeveless, embellished) and a black skirt that hits the middle of her thighs and allows her to twirl endlessly. Maya _insists_ on paying for it, and Riley tries to argue, but Maya wins with gifting it to her as a birthday present. Riley grunts and lets her pay, but she knows that when it’s Maya’s time, she’ll repay the favor.

By the time they return to Riley’s apartment, the sky is already darkening, oranges turning to a deep violet. The party is three hours away, so they spend the rest of the time preparing for the party, which turns into Maya and Smackle (mostly Maya) helping curl her hair, apply makeup (with red lipstick to boot!), and basically ensuring she looks like an absolute goddess.

Which she does. Riley almost faints when she spots herself in the mirror because she actually looks _mature_. Twenty-five is doing wonders for her and she’s technically not even twenty-five yet!

When the clock strikes nine, all the people Maya invited over pile in, including Zay, Lucas, and Farkle, too. As soon as she spots Farkle, her relief is immense; she thought that, because of it being a sore subject, he wouldn’t want to come. But she also knows that it’s hard for him to miss out on something so important to him, so despite the fact that he looks nervous and pale, he’s there, and Riley is elated to see him.

“So, are you going to save me a dance tonight?” Riley jokes (mostly) when she finds him, her eyes bright in his presence. His eyes land on her, and for a split second she thinks she might give him an anxiety attack, but he softens at the sight of her, a small smile reserved just for her appearing on his face.

“Of course,” he nods. “It’s tradition by now, isn’t it?” Riley supposes so. They _have_ done it every birthday for each other, regardless of them being wary of it.

“A tradition I’d love to keep,” Riley agrees, grinning widely, linking arms with him. “After we get a drink first!”

Farkle would never admit to it, but he had somehow acquired a knack for concocting mixed drinks, especially sugary ones, so in preparation of him coming (but mostly for the party guests, _really_ , she swears) she unloaded her entire stash of liquor, putting her bottle of peach Burnett’s at the forefront.

As soon as he spots the counter blanketed in numerous bottles of liquor with the peach vodka right in sight, he smiles wryly and gets to work, his fingers trailing the tops of each bottle as he searches for the perfect set. Then he pours it all together, reaches into Riley’s fridge for the jar of maraschino cherries she has, and places two at the top, handing it to her once he’s done. Riley steals a sip, and she’d wager it’s his best to date.

“Ohmygod,” she groans, “This is too damn good, Minkus.”

“I aim to please,” he salutes her. “I’ll call it the ‘Smiley Riley’.” She almost knocks over him and her drink as she hugs him, but he steadies them, always the balance in their relationship.

“You’re the best!” Riley squeals, pecking his cheek. She even relishes in the moment when his skin flames red, him rubbing at his face as he tries to hide his embarrassment.

“I’m gonna go find Zay. Come get me when you want a dance, yeah?” he says.

Okay. She can let him go—for _now_. Besides, she’s gotta party on as hard as she can! It’s her special night, and she’s going to make the most of it.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the evening for her is flashing lights of a multitude of colors, smiles all indicating that _this is a real big day_ , the uncertainty causing her heart to flutter sporadically in her chest. Beating bass fills her ears, conversations drowning out around her as she twists and twirls with reckless abandon. At half an hour before midnight drawls, she finds Farkle in a corner—always a corner with him—watching everyone with fascination.

Her fingers find his first, drawing his attention to her. She motions with her head toward the middle of the living room, and she knows it makes him a bit nervous to be the center of attention, but he’d do most things for her, if only for her.

It’s always funny dancing with Farkle, because he never knows what she’s going to make him do. For this song, though, she wants to slow things down, savor the moment, and as she hooks her arms around his neck, he immediately gets the hint to rest his hands on her waist as the music curls around them.

 

_You got the moon dust, I got the sky_

_We got the stars_

_We got audio_

She enjoys being in his presence; he’s always a calming force for her when the world feels fast and tumultuous like a storm. Farkle’s always been her touchstone, the place she can return to when everything crashes and feels like _too much_. Riley wonders to herself for a moment if _he_ realizes that himself.

Does he not know what he is to her?

For a genius, he’s quite oblivious when it comes to things that aren’t fact, but she can’t really blame him. Believing in magic was always her thing, something that was never intuitive for Farkle. The funny thing about life, however, is how much they’ve changed; how much he’s come to find faith in the unknown, and how she’s steered herself towards putting faith in logic and reality.

But for two people who seem to be very opposite, they’re not very different, not at all. In fact, they’re more two sides of the same coin, her and Farkle are.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks when he notices the wrinkle in her brow. His thumb even reaches up to smooth it out, and Riley feels her breath catch, if only for just a short second.

“Life. Dancing. Us,” she answers plainly. His eyebrows shoot up at her last word, like he wasn’t expecting it.

“Us?” Riley hums.

“Mhm. I was just thinking about how well we work together even though we seem really different. Did you always think about that?”

“Uh, when we were kids, yeah. Mostly when we first became friends and I couldn’t find a perfect reason why you would want me to tag along with you besides the fact that our parents knew each other,” Farkle tells her.

“I always knew you were special, Farkley,” she says, and he snorts in response, as if he can’t believe that.

“Hm, that’s not how I would put it. Weird? Obnoxious? Yeah, those words sound like a better fit.” Riley narrows her eyes at him, one hand reaching up to flick his ear.

“ _No_ , you doofus. You do know you’re more than just a brain, right? You mean way more than that to me. You mean so _much_ to me,” she clarifies. His fingers tighten on her waist, his chest wavering as breathing becomes difficult. Before he can respond, though, someone taps on her shoulder to let her know that it’s ten minutes to midnight. Riley feels her heartrate spike, but her attention refocuses once Farkle’s grip has left her, distance now placed between the two of them.

“Riley, I’ve gotta go,” he mutters, gesturing towards the door. Riley frowns.

“What do you mean? The party isn’t even over yet!”

But he’s Farkle, and for every single time she thinks she’s got him figured out, he always throws her a curveball.

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. I just . . . I’m not feeling too great. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

He doesn’t even wait for her response, just backs away out towards the front door, rendering her speechless. Her mind wanders over the way he said the last phrase, _soon_ , like he didn’t expect that to be it, but rather later. Much later.

Riley doesn’t have time to stew over it, however, because Maya’s pulling her along to the front of the room, placing a crown that says “birthday queen” on top of her head as they gather around the television for a countdown she’s put on. Suddenly, it’s a whirlwind of people gathering around her, all chanting her name as the time inches closer and closer, her head becoming hazy from the overwhelming barrage to her senses. Maya has her take a shot of some bubblegum flavored alcohol, and then it’s a minute to midnight, and Riley feels as though she might explode.

 

Fifty seconds.

 

Forty seconds.

 

Thirty seconds.

 

Twenty seconds.

 

_Ten seconds._

 

Everyone begins screaming the countdown, and Riley does too, her heart pounding like a kick drum, the intensity growing with each passing second.

 

_“TEN!”_

Beat.

 

_“NINE!”_

 

Beat.

 

_“EIGHT!”_

 

Beat.

 

_“SEVEN!”_

Beat.

_“SIX!”_

Beat.

_“FIVE!”_

BEAT.

 

_“FOUR!”_

BEAT.

 

_“THREE!”_

BEAT.

 

_“TWO!”_

BEAT BEAT BEAT BEAT BEAT—

 

_“ONE!”_

And then her heart stops, if only for a brief moment, and she lifts her wrist to see the writing appear as clear as day.

It strikes her like a bolt of lightning to the heart, and in that very moment she _knows_ she has to go.

“What do you mean you’ve gotta go? Aren’t you going to tell me what your wrist says?!” Maya asks as Riley gathers her purse and coat, rushing towards the door.

“I’ve gotta take care of something first! Hold down the fort while I’m gone!”

She disappears out the door and onto the street, wet from recent rainfall, her arm sticking out to hail a taxi to the only place she could be going, the only place that ever made sense to her.

 

* * *

 

She clambers through his bedroom window, knowing fully that while he joked it was always open to her, he always meant it with a hundred percent sincerity.

Riley knows she probably should’ve called first, but she also had a flair for the dramatics, so when she stumbles not so gracefully into his bedroom and startles him, there’s no going back.

“Riley?” he asks, eyes wide with surprise. She wants to smack him on the arm for being so dense, but he’s Farkle, so instead she focuses on him, her gaze soft as she tries to understand why.

“I have a couple of questions to ask you,” she tells him simply. “The first thing that I’ve always, _always_ wanted to know was, did you mean it?” Farkle tilts his head at her, puzzled.

“Huh? Mean what?”

“When you said you’d take me to Mars, did you really mean that?” He pauses a moment, as if he really needs to think it over or if he’s questioning her sanity, but she knows he sees her, serious written into her features, and decides to answer.

“Yeah,” he breathes, gentle. “Yeah, I always meant it.”

“Alright, then my second question is, and forgive me if I’m just not understanding, but _why_ did you not tell me?” Riley lifts up her arm for him to see, her wrist exposed with the name _Farkle Minkus_ scrawled across it in perfect script, and his expression drops. He hesitantly holds out his own wrist, pulling down the sleeve of his jacket so that she can get a good look at his mark, and she doesn’t appear surprised one bit when it’s revealed to her.

_Riley Matthews._

“I . . . I thought you were happy the way you were. You had Daniel, and I didn’t think that . . . I don’t know what I thought,” he sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “You matter a lot to me, Riley. I didn’t think that I was what you wanted.”

She couldn’t help it; she falls into a fit of laughter after he says that.

“Okay, well, if you’re gonna laugh about it—” he starts, but Riley shakes her head, calming herself down.

“Farkle, that’s not why I’m laughing,” she tells him plainly, “I’m laughing because the notion that I would never want you is just . . . it’s _dumb_. I’ll want you no matter what, Farkle Minkus, and now I have even more of a reason to want you. You’re there on my wrist, and if that’s not fate, then I don’t know what is.” Farkle lights up like a Christmas tree, his posture straightening.

“You’re serious?” Riley sits down on the bed next to him, occupying his space, a pearlescent smile bubbling on her face.

“I’m serious. What I want to know is, if you are serious about giving me Mars, then why haven’t you done so yet?”

“Huh?” Riley rolls her eyes, flicking his nose playfully.

_“Just kiss me already, you doofus.”_

Where Farkle's words flounder, his actions prosper. He reaches out to cup her jaw carefully, pressing his lips to Riley's tenderly, and for the first time she feels what a kiss is really meant to be.

If she thought her kiss with Lucas was electricity, then kissing Farkle doesn’t even _begin_ to compare.

It’s _explosive_ ; it’s fireworks in her brain, a volcano in her chest as they share heat, and it’s never felt more _right_ , just being there with him.

_Farkle, Farkle, **Farkle** ,_ is all she can think.

When he stops to breathe, he doesn’t remove himself from her, just leans his forehead up against hers, his eyes closed as he takes it all in. Riley’s fingers reach up to stroke his cheek, and she feels in her heart that this is where she’s always been fated to be—in his arms, by his side, existing in the same space as him.

Farkle is Riley’s home, her love, and she wouldn’t trade that for the world; she’d be willing to bet that it is the same for him, as well.

 

They are soulmates, after all, and no force in the universe can change that.


End file.
